


Early Morning Epiphany

by Castiel_For_King



Series: A Study in Sex [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dom John, Fluff, John is so gentle, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sexual exploration, Sherlock Has Issues, Sherlock is very sensitive to physical touch, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finds out that sleeping naked has it's advantages and has an epiphany about his own desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning Epiphany

Sherlock woke to the feeling of his own soft sheets against his naked skin and he clung to the fog of sleep tightly, willing it to keep his mind still for just a few moments longer. He was warm and heavy and relaxed and the last thing in the world that he wanted to do was move; he wanted to lay here, in bed, with John, for as long as the universe would let him.

A trickle of consciousness slithered uninvited into his brain and he shuffled down deeper into the blankets, resisting.

 _John_.

 _John_ was sharing his bed, throwing off heat like a furnace, and when he shifted, Sherlock felt the arm around his waist tighten, holding him snug against John's chest. The heat radiating off his blogger seeped through Sherlock's back and hugged his ribs, swelling in his chest, and Sherlock found himself hiding a grin into his pillow.

Gentle, caring, clever, lovely _John_ was in his bed, holding him close and - _oh_ , pressing sleepy kisses to the back of his neck that sent shivers through the heat coursing between them.

"Good morning, darling." John's voice, rough and low with sleep, shuddered against Sherlock's ear.

He shivered, goosebumps spreading down his neck and arms like blossoming flowers, little pinpricks of pleasure cascading over his scalp and down his spine and Sherlock bit back a gasp, unwilling to let it show that he was so affected by something so plain as John's voice. Except that it wasn't plain, it was deep and rough as sandpaper and, of course, there was the matter of the pet name to be further examined.

 _Darling_. Sherlock shivered again just replaying the sound of John's voice carving out that one word.

John's fingers curled against his stomach, just below his belly button, and Sherlock gave an involuntary twitch, heat spiking down into his groin from the innocent touch; it took more self control than he usually possessed at that hour not to squirm against the solid body behind him.

But John, it seemed, noticed anyway and Sherlock felt him release a breath against the back of his neck.

"I'll never get tired of that." John whispered into his hair, his palm now flat against Sherlock's stomach, pressing with increasing force until he understood what the man wanted and scooted back a few inches.

He gasped, clutching at his pillow when he felt the hard length of John's cock against his lower back.

When they'd gone to bed the night before - Sherlock with his bee book tucked under his arm - Sherlock had stripped and pitched into his own bed, telling John in no uncertain terms that he wasn't about to stop sleeping in the nude. Some people seemed to think it was weird when people slept naked, but John had seen him without clothes on and _touched_ him without his clothes on - it seemed ridiculous to be shy about it just because they were in a bed, Sherlock reasoned. Besides which, it wasn't a sexual thing. Sherlock just liked sleeping naked, clothes were too restricting when he was trying to get comfortable enough to sleep.

John had left his pyjama pants on, though, for a reason Sherlock could not deduce, but he did not ask, only took John's soft smile and fond eyes for what they were and allowed himself to drift to sleep with his blogger at his back.

 _Now,_ however _,_ sleeping naked seemed to have another advantage Sherlock hadn't considered, because there was something absolutely, mind-numbingly _arousing_ about being naked while John was clothed - even partially - and the feeling of John's hard cock through the flannel pressing against Sherlock's skin was more than a little distracting.

"Never get tired of what?" Sherlock finally asked, when he managed to get his brain to stop trying to figure out why he liked the idea of being naked while John was not.

"Of how sensitive you are." John replied smoothly, sounding much more awake and much more alert than Sherlock did. "All I need to do is just..."

Sherlock sucked in a breath when John's hand pushed up over his ribs, fingertips barely brushing over one of his nipples but still sparking a daisy-chain of little shocks through his chest and up the back of his neck. He felt heat flare in his face and was glad he was facing away from John so that he did not see him blushing.

John was peppering soft kisses across his shoulders, his hand pulling back over Sherlock's ribs and then sliding, soft and unhurried over his hip and farther down, to his thigh. With every inch of skin John's fingers wandered over, a new wave of goosebumps spread out form under his hand, making Sherlock feel as though he'd suddenly acquired several billion extra nerve endings.

He could feel his own cock taking an interest and had to try very hard not to let his hips roll against the soft sheets. But when John started dragging his hand up the back of his thigh it sent pinpricks of heat skittering up Sherlock's legs, gathering at the base of his spine and his hips twitched down involuntarily. A whimper escaped his lips when John's fingers moved over his hip, thumb brushing over the swell of his backside.

"Alright?" John asked him, sounding a little breathless as well.

The thought had never occured to Sherlock, that it might feel different to be touched in different places. John's hands seemed to bring pleasure no matter where they were on his body. Though it was becoming increasingly evident that intent and circumstance could change things drastically. He knew now that when John touched his nipples it felt much more intense than if he was touching his arm, for several different reasons. Most important of which was the _intent_ behind it. It was sexual, it was a touch that aimed to bring pleasure specifically, where as a touch to the arm or face - while still quite intense for Sherlock - wasn't the same kind of overwhelming as it was when he knew the touch was inherently sexual and would _lead_ to sexual activities.

John had never touched his arse before but the flush of heat that spread through Sherlock's entire body was surprisingly unexpected and he immediately craved more data.

"Touch me there again." he said, wishing his voice sounded commanding, as he'd intended, instead of imploring, as it turned out.

He could feel John smile gently against the back of his neck.

"Where? Here...?"

John pulled his hand down from Sherlock's waist, turning it over and dragging his knuckles over one pale, rounded cheek.

Even if he'd wanted to, Sherlock wouldn't have been able to stop the full body shudder that swept through him and he rolled onto his front a little, finally letting his hips rock forward and groaning when his cock rubbed against the sheets.

John's hand returned, gentle but poignant, splaying over Sherlock's arse cheek and barely squeezing.

The simmering heat that had been evenly distributed around Sherlock's body very suddenly condensed way down low in his belly and he cried out with the abruptness of it, his limbs feeling cold in it's sudden absence. Pins and needles skittered between his thighs and behind his balls, John's hand like a plasma globe - electrodes shooting off along Sherlock's nerve endings - and it left him panting. He could feel his thighs shaking and he slid his knee out against the mattress for stability, rolling his hips against the sheets again.

" _John...John..._ " he could think of nothing else to say, quite unsure of what he was trying to communicate anyway.

"Shh..." John hushed him, his voice still close to Sherlock's ear, though he hadn't moved to regain the space between them when Sherlock had rolled onto his front, instead taking advantage of the freedom of movement it gave him to touch Sherlock more thoroughly.

John's hand pivoted, never losing contact with Sherlock's skin, and then the tips of his fingers were dipping between his cheeks and Sherlock was crying out sharply; that heat in his gut rushed outward in a minor but devastating explosion that had a little to do with _where_ John was touching him and a lot more to do with the intent - the _possibilities_ , the _desires_ \- behind it.

He gasped into his pillow, dimly aware that John was no longer touching him at all but was instead whispering praise and apologies against his shoulder, sounding distressed.

' _It's ok_.' Sherlock wanted to say, but it seemed his lungs were still much too busy pulling air down his throat to allow him use of his vocal chords.

That sort of touch - foolishly - had thus far truly never occured to him. Now that it had, Sherlock felt ridiculous for failing to consider that that may be something John would want from him. He managed to turn his head towards John's voice and grope for the closest hand to hold while he sorted through the mess in his head, hoping it would reassure John enough until he was capable of articulating; aftershocks of John's touch were still ringing through his blood.

Sherlock thought about how far he and John had come. Or, if he was being honest with himself, how far John had gently, lovingly, lead him. Sweet, wonderful John, who was infinitely patient when anyone else would have left already. John, who said he wouldn't do anything Sherlock didn't want and that it was fine if he didn't want to go further than kissing and cuddling.

But...was that something Sherlock could do, he wondered? He thought about the closeness, the _intimacy_ , of something so advanced as penetrative intercourse and felt his guts curdle like sour milk - but he forced himself to look closer, peeling back the layers of discomfort to find out _why_.

It was nothing to do with the act itself, he realized. Once again, he found himself circling right back to that terrible issue of heart-stopping vulnerability. Weakness. Submission.

He hesitantly conjured up a mental image of himself on his back. John hovered over him, settled between his legs, and his hips rolled forward as he sank into Sherlock's body.

Mixed feelings spread through him in response and Sherlock dispelled the image. Desire was there and it was _strong_ , glowing low in his belly and making his cock throb eagerly and Sherlock squirmed. But underneath the desire there was - he frowned - fear. He was _scared_ and he felt ridiculous for it. John was not someone he should fear in any respect. John would never hurt him. John would never taken advantage of him.

Sherlock knew this. Why was he still afraid?

When he finally left his own head, Sherlock found that his face was very close to John's, who was still lying on his side but with an inch of space between them. He looked very upset and that just wouldn't do at all.

"John." Sherlock squeezed the hand in his and felt a pang of guilt in his chest when he realized John's eyes were glassy and sad. "I'm sor-"

" _No_ , Sherlock." John cut him off firmly. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for, do you understand? _I'm_ the one that needs to apologize. I pushed too far...I didn't...I'm sorry, Sherlock. Jesus, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_..."

Confused with just how upset John seemed to be, Sherlock contemplated how best to reassure the man.

"You did not push too far." he said softly, shyly, feeling his cheeks heat up when John's attention suddenly focused completely on him. "I...I liked how it felt. I just," he cleared his throat, the image of John hovering over him, of John pushing into him, quite distracting in it's frightening appeal. "I had an epiphany at an inopportune moment."

John seemed less upset, at least, if not a little confused, a little cautious. His grip on Sherlock's hand loosened with his ebbing distress but he still did not reach out to touch the detective. Instead his dark blue eyes flicked this way and that over Sherlock's face through a frown.

"An epiphany about what, exactly?" he carefully asked.

Sherlock wished he could stop blushing for even five minutes, it really was getting ridiculous. "About what it would be like to have sex with you."

Shock melted the frown off John's face and he blinked a few times, seemingly blindsided. Sherlock waited patiently.

After a few moments, John's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Sherlock..." he cleared his throat and started again. "Sherlock, you don't need to...to worry about that right now. I told you before that I don't want to do anything you don't want to do. If it happens, it happens but if it doesn't, that's fine too." A small smile twitched at the corner's of John lips, his eyes growing warm again. "It's all fine."

Sherlock nodded, ducking his head to hide his own smile. Relief was flooding through him. "I want to try it." he said at last, wanting John to understand. "Some day, I want to try it."

John's other hand settled between his shoulders, thumb stroking over Sherlock's soft skin and it was enough to recharge the heat simmering low in Sherlock's belly. Though the detective kept that to himself for the moment, quite content to bask in the glow of John's soft affection.

"If you want to try that, we can. Some day." John reiterated fondly. "It's a bit much to think about at the moment."

"I've already thought about it."

John's thumb stilled. "Oh?"

Sherlock turned and braced his elbow against the mattress, propping his head up in his hand to regard his doctor. "Yes. A moment ago. A simple experiment just to test my reaction."

John huffed a laughed. "Of course. And? What were the results."

"Intense arousal. Strong desire." Sherlock swallowed, looking away. "Fear."

He could almost hear John's gentle smile fading but Sherlock knew, in this, it was likely better to be honest. John deserved to know about this, given how upset he got when he thought he'd pushed Sherlock too far, and Sherlock did not want to be the cause of John's sadness. No, when it came to their relationship, he would tell John everything, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.

"I don't know why." he said at length, answering the question no doubt teetering on the tip of John's tongue. "It's not rational. I know you would never..."

"It's ok." John said softly, pushing his fingers into Sherlock's hair. "I understand. It's ok to be afraid of something like that. It's normal. It's also not something we _need_ to do."

There was a lot there that Sherlock needed to think about but when John's hands were in his hair it was nearly impossible to think at all and he closed his eyes with a sigh, his cock once again snagging his focus. He leaned forward, hovering over John's parted lips for a fraction of a second before pressing closer. They both sighed and John went loose against him, the last of the tension easing from his muscles.

When they parted for air, Sherlock went down onto his front again, his gaze steady on John's face as the doctor propped himself up on an elbow.

"Touch me again." Sherlock said.

John frowned, looking as if he was about to protest - looking _worried_ again - and Sherlock huffed, sliding his knee out along the mattress until it bumped John's and tilting his hips up so that his arse was in the air just a little.

The movement successfully drew John's attention and he watched with satisfaction when John swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing.

"You sure?" John asked once he'd torn his eyes off the tantalizing sight of Sherlock's pale, smooth skin.

He eyed the growing bulge in the front of John's pants and smirked. "Quite."

John nodded, leaning over to capture Sherlock's lips in a deep, lingering kiss that left the detective's head a little fuzzy, before sitting up and slowly straddling the thigh Sherlock had pushed out to the side.

"Ok?" John asked, weight settling on the detective's leg.

Sherlock nodded eagerly, could feel the heat seeping into his skin through John's flannels, and goosebumps erupted all over his body in anticipation of the man's steady touch.

"Please..."

The first touch of John's hands to his skin was tentative and slow, as if he was giving Sherlock the time to change his mind, but even though the touch was light, it still sent a bolt of heat right to Sherlock's cock and he groaned, rolling his hips into the mattress. After that, John became more confident.

He used both hands, one to cup each pale, porcelain globe, squeezing gently before pushing up towards the base of Sherlock's spine, then down again over both thighs and Sherlock felt himself go boneless, pleasure tingling over every inch of him, branching out from under the static energy of John's lovely, lovely hands. He rocked his hips in slow, steady undulations, pushing back into John's touch.

He felt John's hands rub up his back and down over his arse and thighs once more before they paused, almost contemplatively, just for a fraction of a second, then slid up over each cheek again and spread them, exposing him.

" _Fuck_...!" the word punched out of Sherlock's chest, sounding strangled and wrecked even to his own ears, but he couldn't be bothered to care, keening high and loud as he rocked his hips into the mattress faster and harder, his cock aching between his legs. Red hot coals were burning in his belly and heat was rushing through him in pulses from his head to his toes with every second that passed where John simply kept him spread open, the tingle of his gaze a physical, electric thing.

" _Johnnnn_." he groaned, the sheet under him wet with precum and getting wetter with every roll of his hips.

"Shh, it's alright love. You're doing so well." John praised.

The gentle words wrapped around Sherlock's mind, spoonfeeding him pleasure. When he felt John's thumbs pushing closer to his hole but not _touching_ , Sherlock growled, his hips stuttering against the mattress.

"That's good, Sherlock. Come on, darling, let go. I've got you, it's alright..."

The dry pad of John's thumb brushed over his entrance - barely a breath of a touch - and Sherlock saw white.

His orgasm crashed over him with sudden and shocking intensity and Sherlock could do nothing but gasp, his mouth open in a silent cry, as his whole body shook with the force of it. He felt John's hand, pressing steady and strong against his lower back as he came on the sheets, hot and slick.

"That's it, there's a good lad..."

Sherlock gripped the pillow under his head, screwing his eyes shut as another wave shuddered through him. John was straddling his hips now, kissing gently up up spine, murmuring things like _beautiful, gorgeous, perfect._

There was only one hand rubbing between his shoulders and Sherlock cracked his eyes open when the mind-numbing pulses of pleasure finally ebbed, leaving his muscles as heavy as sand. He looked back to see that John's other hand was down the front of his pajama bottoms, the tip of his angry red cock peeking over the edge, and John's fierce gaze was on his face.

When he realized Sherlock was watching him, John pushed his bottoms down enough to reveal his cock and Sherlock watched, his breathing becoming shallow again, as John paused to squeeze around the head before picking up a steady rhythm.

"God, Sherlock, the things you do to me..." John gasped, the fingers of his free hand clamping down on Sherlock's waist and kneading the flesh. His stroked his cock faster, a bead of precum easing from the slit that Sherlock had the sudden urge to taste. He would have, if he hadn't been trapped on his front. Instead, he wriggled his arse under John, remembering how much the man seemed to like it the last time.

It earned him a low growl and a thrill shot through him, so Sherlock shifted again, pressing up against John once more, able to feel the heavy weight of his balls just at the top of his arse.

" _Fuck - Sherlock...f-fuck..._ "

Sherlock gasped when he felt John's hot cum splash over the dip in his spine, his own cock giving a tired twitch in response. He watched as best he could, looking over his shoulder in time to see John milking himself, gripping hard just under the head of his cock and staring down at the mess he'd made on Sherlock's back, pupils blown wide and teeth bared in a snarl.

The savage look on the doctors face ebbed as his orgasm receded and Sherlock was quite unhappy to see it go, already wondering what he could do next time they had sex to make John look so... _primal_.  He shivered.

He let his head fall back onto the pillow when he felt John shift above him, his finger dragging through the cum on Sherlock's back.

"We'll need to strip the sheets." Sherlock said and then promptly yawned hard enough to crack his jaw.

"Mmm tomorrow." John murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss between the detective shoulders. "How do you feel? I didn't go too far, did I?"

The grin in John's voice told Sherlock he already knew the answer but he huffed, feigning annoyance at having to spell out what was obvious.

"No, I...I quite liked it." He couldn't help but squirm, feeling strange admitting it.

"That's alright, you know. Liking it, I mean." John told him fondly but sincerely. "You're allowed to like things that make you feel good."

Sherlock felt giddy with a sudden swell of...not quite relief - he knew he was allowed to enjoy things - but it was nice to hear John say it all the same. He made a half hearted attempt to buck John off him.

"Is it? In that case I have some calls to make."

He made to roll out of bed but John's strong fingers wrapped around his arm and tugged him back down, snapping, "Not drugs, you beautiful idiot!"

"Fine." Sherlock sneered primly. He extricated himself from John's hold and stood, trying his utmost to look regal with cum drying on both his front and back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a shower. Some prat just ejaculated all over my back."

John choked his way through a laugh as Sherlock strode from the room, his chin high.

**Author's Note:**

> Well I REALLY enjoyed writing this one, tbh. Did you enjoy reading it? *smirk*


End file.
